Coed Undercover

Story Info
Sarah's first attempt at undercover doesn't go as planned.
4k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/13/2008
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JB252
JB252
59 Followers

Ben and Moussa had been going to the college for 2 years, both in the graduate biochemistry program. They were from somewhere in the Middle East, maybe Israel, maybe Lebanon. Ben was a good looking guy about 6'1" with dark hair and a big smile, liked to talk -- in slightly accented English—and had no trouble attracting the girls. Moussa was a little shorter, well muscled, also attractive, quieter, but not really shy, just more private. They had been friends since they met in the program 2 years ago, now roommates in a nice apartment near campus for the past year. Everyone assumed that they came from wealthy families; after all, a great apartment -- hardly the style one usually associated with "starving" graduate students -- each had a car, and they dressed well. Yes, these guys were obviously not hurting for the bucks. They were known for having pretty good parties with good beer, good wine, and other things. If they were Muslims, they certainly didn't let it get in the way of a good time.

"What do you think? This Saturday?" Ben asked his roommate.

"Why not. I could use a little fun after these past weeks of being buried in books. And we've got rent to pay, Hey Ben, you know?"

"Yeah. We did pretty well in that last one. How much do we bring in?"

Moussa thought for a moment, doing a little calculation in his head. "About $1500."

"Not bad, " Ben laughed. "Let's do it. I'll get the word out."

They finished their coffee, grabbed their books and left for class.

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Sarah was a 22 year old poly-sci student in her final year at the college and thinking about what in hell she was going to do with this ridiculous major. She was from a small town in rural Virginia called Farmville, the youngest in a large traditional family.

"My parents told me to get into pre-med," she said to herself as she was walking back to her little apartment, "but I knew better. I was going to study ways to bring peace to the world. Well, short of bringing in the millennium, what am I going to do with my life? Maybe I'll just find a nice guy and let him take care of me." She sighed to herself.

For a girl as cute as she was, Sarah was fairly timid when it came to men. She remained a virgin through high school and remedied that in her sophomore year of college. In many ways, she was the proverbial small-town, traditional, nice girl. She'd had only two real boyfriends in college, but plenty of first dates. It was just that most of the guys she met were so shallow. Sarah wasn't a knockout, not a beauty queen type, but at 5'6 and 120 lbs, with long dark hair, long legs and a curvy, "provocative" figure, men did notice her. Her main problem was that she was too damned smart, running intellectual rings around most of the drones who asked her out. And she didn't want to play the game and hide her mind. If a guy wasn't up to her level, she got plain bored and quickly.

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Like most institutions of wayward learning, this university had a drug problem -- typical, fairly innocuous stuff, but thanks to the recent articles in the paper, people in the community had been complaining about it. So finally the local police officials were taking an interest. In cooperation with the campus security, they sent a man onto the campus to look for signs of "suspicious activity". He was so obviously out of place that he was spotted almost immediately: a narc, a snark, an aardvark was amongst us. And an odd vark he really was. He stood out like the proverbial sore thumb. A poster-boy for a junior G-man. He may as well as worn a sign around his neck when he walked up to a group of kids and asked if they knew where he could "score". About the only thing he scored was derisive laughter. After a few embarrassing days of this, he was pulled off. A new approach was needed.

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The head of campus security, Maurice Stans, called Sarah into his office. He had heard about her from one of her professors. Sarah was said to be smart, level-headed, conservative and definitely not involved with the drug scene.

"What do you think, Sarah? Would you be willing to do a little law enforcement work as credit for your final community service project?"

Sarah was dreading the community service boondoggle she, as a senior, would be forced to go through, so her interest was piqued.

"I don't know. What would I have to do?" She asked.

"Nothing dangerous. Just help us out with a little undercover work. We're trying to find out the source of these yellow pills that have been flooding campus."

Sarah opened her eyes a little wider. "Those little yellow ones? Yes, I've seen those around. I've even been offered them a few times." She quickly added, "I've never taken them though."

Mr. Stans further explained, "We think we know who is behind this, but we can't get close enough to verify it. And we don't want to call in the DEA or any outside agency; It's not big enough for them and could be embarrassing for us. We think we just have some students selling these happy pills, not some big time coke dealer here."

"So what can I do?" Sarah asked. "I don't know anything about it. I don't have anything to do with drugs -- except the occasional beer."

"Well," laughed Mr. Stans, "you could try to get into the social circle of our suspects and let us know what you saw. That's all. Just a little reconnaissance."

Sarah was a somewhat intrigued. "What, you want me to try to date some guys? Some guys I don't even know."

"Well, not necessarily date; they have parties, and we thought you might attend one of them and just keep your eyes open. Like I said, nothing too intense. You just have to play the part of a college girl, which you be able to do quite well, since that is what you are." He laughed.

"You mean, I'll get credit for going to a party?" She smiled, "I'm in."

Mr. Stans smiled back at her, "Good. Let me get you fully briefed, as we say."

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Ben usually took care of most of the party preparation: the beer, the food the music. Moussa took care of the "goodies" as he called the ecstasy pills that he sold. He was careful of his customers; he either had to know them well or be convinced that they were not cops or narcs. Those little yellows made for a nice lifestyle, and he wasn't going to jeopardize this by getting sloppy or greedy.

Sarah knew of Ben through her friend Cindy who had dated Ben briefly and still remained friends with him. When she asked Cindy about the party on Saturday, Cindy said she was going and asked her if she wanted to come. Trying to be coy, Sarah told her maybe, she would think about it. But Bingo! She was in.

Sarah thought about what to wear; what she wear to fit in with that crowd. Maybe something halfway between the prim missionary look and the super slut. Something fetching but no too obvious, but then again not too standoffish looking. She knew the people who went to these parties were a very casual lot: jeans and t-shirts were de rigueur for the guys. The girls usually wore jeans and t-shirts or maybe halter tops. Sarah decided to join the humdrum and wear jeans and a t-shirt. And sleeveless to add a little risqué to the ensemble. But what about the bra situation. Hmmmm. She didn't really need one. Her breasts were quite firm, and lots of girls went without unless they were too pendulous. She didn't want to appear too obviously proper. She decided on no bra. Maybe that would make her more accessible to her quarry. But the shirt would definitely not be see-through.

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At the party on Saturday, Ben was introduced by Cindy to Sarah. They spoke briefly; he gave her a beer; and then he went to the door to let in some more guests. He looked back later and saw Sarah there; she seemed to be "feeling no pain" and dancing alone. No one had yet asked her to dance; Cindy was busy with some guy; she didn't know anyone else here, so she danced by herself. He noticed that she had very nice breasts -- not very large -- but firm and high, bouncing a little when she danced. She was obviously not wearing a bra under her shirt. She was poking through distinctly. Ben thought she looked interesting, good possibilities here. But Sarah wasn't thinking of Ben as a possible date. She as ever aware of her mission at this party -- Ben and Moussa were the suspects after all. Now was time for her move. Sarah saw Moussa not too far away and walked up to him.

"Hey, how's it going? You're Ben's roommate, right? I'm Sarah, a friend of Cindy's."

He looked her over and said, "Hello. I'm Moussa. Welcome to our humble pad. What's going on Sarah, friend of Cindy's?"

Sarah laughed and said, "Like everyone else, I'm just here for the free grub and suds."

They talked for a few minutes, loudly, over the music. Sarah thought Moussa was nice, kinda cute -- for a drug dealer. Well, a suspected drug dealer anyway. She was beginning to get into her role as double agent or whatever she was supposed to be. This was fun. And much better than some community service drudgery. So Sarah the undercover agent sprang into action, but tried to do it casually, offhandedly, subtlety.

"You know, Moussa, I've been really tense lately what with grade pressures and all; so would you ... ummm... guys have anything that might relax me a little?"

Moussa laughed and said, "We have beer. Could I get you a cold, relaxing beer?"

Sarah smiled at him coyly and answered, "I was hoping for something a little less... liquid, if you know what I mean. What are those little yellow jobs I've been seeing around."

"I don't really know, Sarah."

Moussa looked at her and thought, "Something is a little fishy with this one. She's just a little too cute. And doesn't seem the usual type to be interested in our stash." Sarah seemed to him to be too overt for a first meeting.

He grinned at her and said, "Let me see what I can do about relaxing you. Let me talk to my guy Ben. See him over there. The tall, dark one, not as handsome as me of course, but a good guy."

Sarah nodded and smiled, "Yeah, we've met."

Moussa left her to go over to Ben.

She thought to herself, "Damn, I'm good! This is going to be a little too easy."

She was alone now and began dancing and swaying again to the music. Sidney Bristow move over, here was Sarah the super sleuth.

--------------------------------

"Ben. See that little number over there. Her name is Sarah. Says she's a friend of Cindy. But she also asked about yellow pills, but, you know, too openly and too soon for my taste. Something's not right here." Moussa said.

Ben looked over at Sarah and then back to Moussa. "So what do you think? We could use the business, but do you think she's trouble?"

Moussa replied, "I'm not sure, but she says she wants to relax. Why don't we help her out with that first. You know what I mean?"

"OK, my friend, I'll take left."

Together they walked over to the slowly dancing Sarah, one on each side of her and both smiled at her.

Without speaking, both guys began to dance with Sarah, she in the middle.

"I'll dance with them awhile. I guess this is part of my technique, getting to know my prey, lulling them to a false sense of security." She thought to herself.

They danced for a short time without any contact and then Moussa became a little brazen and approached her front, bent down to his knees and kissed her quickly on the skin of her exposed stomach -- her shirt had risen up a little while she moved in the dance. She didn't appear to object and he kept kissing her there as she danced before him.

"Wait a minute. OK. I'll let them get a little friendly here but not too friendly." Sarah's inner voice spoke.

Then Ben got into the act and pulled her by the arms back onto the nearby couch.

"Whoa. What are you doing?" Sarah cried out.

Ben spoke to her in a low voice. "This is just part of the dance. In my country, this is how we dance. A couch dance. Just relax, Sarah."

He sat her down and then pulled up her shirt completely -- around her neck. She tried to pull her shirt back down to cover her now bare breasts, but now both guys were beside her on the couch, holding the shirt up and keeping her pressed against the back of the sofa, laughing, as if this were just a harmless party game.

She tried to keep her cool and play her part of the willing, docile party girl but thought "Now how far do I let this go? Well, big deal, let them see my breasts. It's in a good cause. I can keep control over things".

Ben bent down and took her left nipple into his mouth for a moment. A quick wet kiss. She squealed and pushed his head away. Moussa now did the same to her other nipple.She gave a little half-gasp/half-grunt of surprise and pushed him away as well.

Sarah told them, "Oh my God. Cut it out. You guys are insane! Stop it!" She again tried to pull her shirt back down. But could not.

The guys now leaned in and both began to suck on her nipples at the same time.

"Ahhhhh!" from Sarah.

Sarah was confused and her body was stunned by the brazen assault. She had to maintain control here but not lose her chance to get to know them, get them to trust her, and get the goods on them. She was on a mission after all.

She sat there between them, squirming, one hand on each of their heads, trying to push them away. Sarah wasn't a virgin, but was still rather inexperienced, somewhat naïve, in matters of sex. She had gotten intimate only with her two past boyfriends. But she had certainly never experienced what these guys were doing. The effect upon her was so intense, so unexpected, it was almost overpowering.

"Ooh Ahhh That hurts... no I mean tickles. Quit it now. Please." But it wasn't really pain nor tickling she was actually feeling. And it had happened too fast for her to know how to react.

She tensed and wriggled her body between them on the couch and softly moaned out "Ahhh stop," and "No don't," over and over. But the guys continued their sucking. She managed to get Ben off of her left nipple for a moment using both hands to push his head, but Moussa continued licking the other one. She turned her attention to him and moved both hands to push Moussa's head away. But then Ben, now free, resumed what he was doing to her hard, wet left nipple. Having gotten free of Moussa's head, again she pushed Ben with both hands, but Moussa dove back in. And on this went, back and forth, pushing one then the other away with both hands, with the result that each nipple was being sucked in turn -- accompanied by a soft moan from her -- first one then the other: the right, the left, the right, the left -- the alternating sexual jolts slowly exhausting her, draining her resistance. She finally gave up trying to push their heads away.

She gasped out, "Ooh God. This isn't fair." The sucking was beginning to arouse her, in spite of herself, "Please stop... Ahhhhh."

She wondered what she should do at this point. If she screamed, she would lose her chance of getting the evidence. But she was trapped there, a guy on each side holding her, each sucking on a nipple. As it went on longer, her eyes closed and her mouth opened; she thought less and less about her reason for being at this party as her attention was diverted completely to the sensations emanating from her breasts. She laid her head back onto the couch, turning it slowly to the left and the right, becoming momentarily lost in the pleasure. She fought to regain control over herself, lifted her head, opened her eyes for a second, and saw too dark heads, both with curly black hair, under her gaze, both pressed to her chest, both sucking her. Then she slowly sank back and closed them again.

She moaned quietly and thought, "I've got to remember what I'm doing here. I'm here on assignment. Ahhh. God. I'll let this go on just a little longer and then stop it...just a little longer. Oh My God."

Ben relished the feel of her naked nipple in his mouth, getting harder and harder. He loved the way she moaned and writhed her body. He raised his head for a moment to look at her face, saw her eyes closed, saw that her nipple was erect, hard, wet and red. She did have beautiful breasts and lovely sexy nipples, jutting out about ½ inch. He went back to his sucking and licking. She moaned aloud again as she felt his lips back on her. She kept her hands lightly on the top of their heads and breathed more heavily as this went on.

She whispered to them, "Guys. Please. I'm too sensitive. You've found my weak spot. Please. Oohhhh."

Inwardly she thought, "This is killing me... but just a little longer and then I'll stop it...just a little longer."

Then she knew she at the point of no return and said aloud, gasping between heavy breaths, "OK. That's it. Please stop. It is too much. I can't stand this. Stop!"

Sarah naively expected they would cease now and let her up. She was accustomed to men complying when she said "No". She knew she couldn't take any more. But they surprised her and kept on sucking. She couldn't stop them. Her nipples were becoming more and more sensitive the longer they were stimulated and by now were hard beyond hard. This double assault simply overwhelmed whatever discretion or embarrassment she may have had in being kissed so intimately by relative strangers at a party. If it had only been one of them, one breast, one nipple, she could have stopped it, controlled it, kept her composure, remembered her plan. But both at the same time was melting her, destroying her resolve, winning her. She didn't know which way to turn, which breast, which nipple to focus on. It felt like sensual flames were running through her nipples into her chest thence to her very core.

She moaned aloud to them, her head back, speaking softly to the air above their heads, "That's ... enough ... now... please ... stop...ooohhhh God ... please."

Her brain was in utter turmoil at this point. Her thoughts were a jumble and less and less coherent, "I've got to remember. Ooh God. What? I've got to... Ooohh...I've got... Ahhh... I've...got..."

Moussa kept at his task, feeling this girl beneath his mouth, smelling her perfume mingled with her excitement. She was responding well. He reached up, pulled her hand from his head and held it, their fingers intermingled, holding hands with her like a boyfriend. Her chest swayed back and forth, pulling back from his mouth, but never getting away from it, and then pushing forward to the origin of her torment.

She began to softly cry, a cry of deep pleasure, without tears, but a cry of being carried away by the overpowering feelings. She writhed her chest about beneath their mouths, pinned beneath them, unable to resist what they were doing to her nipples and breasts. Sarah was beyond speech now and almost beyond thought. What they were doing to her was too much for her to bear. Too much to resist. The trapped girl began to mix louder moans with her cries now. She was helpless. Her panties felt wet inside her jeans.

Hearing her cries, Ben stopped sucking for a moment. Moussa felt his movement back and stopped as well. They looked at each other and smiled and then at Sarah. She had her eyes closed and was breathing heavily, her chest and breasts rising as she gathered in great gasps of air with each breath. They knew she was almost ready.

In these few brief moments of pause from the assault upon her breasts, Sarah, trying to catch her breath, shook her head quickly, trying to regain some semblance of rational thought.

She thought, "What is happening? Who are these guys? What was I doing here? Ohhh. Yes, that's right, I am here to watch for..."

But at that point, the guys nodded to each other and resumed their sucking of her still exposed, rigid, saliva-glistening nipples. The sensation to Sarah was so intense that once she felt the shock of their mouths again all she was able to utter was a moan and her brain went back into its cloud.

JB252
JB252
59 Followers
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